


Bad Timing

by pyrrhical (anoyo)



Series: Repeat 'Verse [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Humor, M/M, Major Original Characters - Freeform, PWP, Post-Stuck on Repeat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-29
Updated: 2017-06-29
Packaged: 2018-11-21 02:52:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11348361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anoyo/pseuds/pyrrhical
Summary: Derek and Stiles have never had particularly good timing, but this is just ridiculous.(Side story to "Stuck on Repeat," can be read without it, but you won't know who the OCs are. Can also be read without the sex; just don't read chapter two.)





	1. Coitus Interruptus

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! Welcome to the first Stuck on Repeat side story.
> 
> For those who've read Stuck on Repeat: welcome back! For those who haven't: I hope you enjoy this, but you should definitely read Stuck on Repeat. You'll enjoy it more.
> 
> So, this can actually be read without the sex. Just don't read chapter two. Ta-dah!
> 
> Comments and kudos much appreciated!

When Stiles woke, it was to Derek’s arm across his waist, a leg between Stiles’, and head half-on Stiles’ pillow, half-on Stiles’ shoulder. It was, in a word, comfortable. 

He adjusted himself slightly so that he could bring a hand up to trace through Derek’s hair slowly, occasionally scratching his nails across the scalp. He could feel Derek take a deep breath and then release it against Stiles’ neck.

“I’m not actually a dog, you know,” Derek muttered, voice still half asleep and muffled by Stiles’ neck.

Stiles snickered. “I know. Doesn’t mean you don’t like it.”

Derek sighed. “As long as we’re straight.”

“Well, we’re straight _on that_ ,” Stiles answered, nudging Derek’s knee with his own.

“Go back to sleep, Stiles,” Derek said, though he sounded more awake.

Stiles nudged his knee again. “Yeah, no. I’m awake. You’ve half pinned me to the bed. I’m probably not falling back asleep.”

“Ugh,” Derek groaned, pressing his face further into Stiles’ neck. “Does it matter that I’d like to go back to sleep?”

“You can go back to sleep after?” Stiles guessed. 

“I’m too tired to be turned on,” Derek continued, his voice barely audible, more a rumble against Stiles’ skin than anything else.

“I’m pretty sure I can fix that,” Stiles said. He let his fingernails run over the back of Derek’s scalp, then down his spine as far as he could reach, pressing a little harder than he had before.

“Dammit,” Derek mumbled, arching his back almost like a cat. Stiles ran his fingernails up and down the path a few more times. “You win.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” Stiles said, laughing a little. 

Derek tucked the arm he had around Stiles’ waist under his hip, then rolled onto his back, taking Stiles with him. “I’m going back to sleep after this.”

“Lies,” Stiles said lightly. “You’re going to be hungry, bemoan the state of my kitchen, and finish off my eggs.” He let the lower half of his body press against Derek’s, but held himself up on his forearms. Derek’s other arm came up to wrap around his back and Stiles leaned into it when Derek ran his hands down Stiles’ back to either side of his spine. “You might go back to sleep after that, sure, but not until you’ve obsessively checked your email and messages.”

Hands running down to grip Stiles’ hips, Derek said, “Stiles. Shut up.”

Stiles laughed, leaning down to kill Derek lightly on the mouth. “You fucking love it when I talk.” He leaned down again to lick into Derek’s mouth, humming softly when Derek offered no resistance. Derek ran one hand up to grip the back of Stiles neck before he rolled them over again, pressing down on the thigh he had between Stiles’ legs. He swallowed Stiles’ moan and ran a hand up the back of Stiles’ thigh, pulling it to up and to the side. 

Moving his legs so they were both curved around Derek’s hips, Stiles ran his hands underneath the back of Derek’s shirt and pushed it up until Derek broke the kiss and pulled it over his head. Derek used an arm to pull Stiles against him and repeated the motion with Stiles’ shirt before he leaned them both back down and placed open-mouthed kisses along Stiles’ neck to his collarbone.

“Fuck,” Stiles muttered, running his nails down Derek’s spine, harder now that his shirt wasn’t in the way. He spread his legs wider and rolled his hips against Derek’s, causing Derek to bite down on the skin just below Stiles’ collarbone.

Derek ran his tongue over the mark he’d made, then kissed it softly. “I thought that’s what you wanted,” he said, running his hands up Stiles’ thighs to the crease between his legs and abdomen. He brushed the backs of his fingers under the elastic waist of Stiles’ boxers, moving his other arm to brace himself against the bed. 

“God, yes,” Stiles whispered, pulling Derek back down to kiss him. He opened his mouth to Derek’s tongue and ran his hands down Derek’s sides to the edges of Derek’s briefs, pushing them down a few centimeters. 

“Mm,” Derek agreed. He slipped his hand underneath Stiles boxers and gripped his dick, pumping once and running his thumb along the slit.

Stiles opened his mouth to pant and Derek took the opportunity to drag kisses down Stiles’ neck and chest. Stiles moved his hands to run his fingers through Derek’s hair, pressing his head back into the mattress, the pillow having long since fled. 

Derek slid his knees back on the mattress and continued kissing down the middle of Stiles’ abdomen, getting to his navel before--

Stiles’ apartment door banged open. Then,

“Hey! We have beer and the first season of _The Sentinel_. This thing is the shit, Jason’s been holding out on us,” Jess yelled.

Jason’s responsive yell, “I’ve been trying to get you to watch _The Sentinel_ for literally years, you ridiculous monster,” came from the direction of Stiles’ kitchen, on the other side of the wall behind his head.

“Are you kidding me,” Derek said, voice flat, raising himself up on his hands and knees and looking Stiles in the face. 

Stiles flailed his arms around, trying to stall for time while he got his breathing back under control. The smirk on Derek’s face said he was onto him. Finally, “I didn’t know they were coming over!” Stiles stage-whispered. “I definitely didn’t invite them! I’d have told you that last night!”

“So they just showed up,” Derek countered, his voice still that emotionless monotone he got whenever he was two seconds from yelling and was actively trying not to, or when he was trying to be sarcastic. 

“They do it all the time,” Stiles whispered back. “They both have keys.”

Derek raised an eyebrow, but didn’t say anything.

“It’s usually not an issue,” Stiles pleaded, pushing his eyebrows together and trying to look innocent.

“Why didn’t you tell them _not_ to when you knew I’d be here?” Derek asked, Stiles’ pleading having long since lost any power against him. At least, when that pleading was obviously fake.

Stiles rolled his eyes. “I didn’t really have the chance. You show up at my door, sort of like they just did, announce we’re going to sleep, take your pants off, take _my_ pants off, and disappoint the hell out of me by actually going to sleep, like I’m your human body pillow. I left my phone in the living room. What was I supposed to do, shove you over to go send a text saying, hey guys, Derek showed up without warning, he’s snoring really loudly, don’t show up out of nowhere tomorrow?”

Derek paused. “You could have just trained them out of coming in unannounced.”

“They’re not dogs either, Derek,” Stiles said, smirking.

“Stiles!” Jess’ voice rang out from the living room. “If you’re still sleeping, this is my fair warning that I’m going to come in there and dump something cold and slimy on you!”

Derek narrowed his eyes. “How is it fair warning if you’re asleep?”

“Don’t question Jess logic,” Stiles answered. He had to consciously raise his voice to respond, clearing his throat of the whispering and unpleasantly cut off moaning. “I’m awake! Give me a minute!” Derek raised his eyebrows. “Or seven!”

“Seven min--” Derek paused. “You’re hilarious. So hilarious, I may never blow you again.”

“Lies,” Stiles said kindly, patting Derek’s cheek. He looked around the room. “Fuck. I haven’t gotten laid in months.”

“And I have?” Derek asked, deadpan.

Stiles looked at him sideways. “I sure hope not.”

Derek leaned down and pressed a kiss to Stiles’ mouth, then rolled off him, presumably to look for clothing. Or the shower.

“That’s not actually an answer,” Stiles said, sitting up. He looked down at his lap, where the excitement was already dead. “This sucks.”

Pulling on his jeans, Derek said, “I’m pretty sure it doesn’t.”

“Now who’s ridiculous?” Stiles asked, rolling out the other side of the bed and pulling open a dresser drawer for a clean pair of jeans for himself.

“Still you,” Derek answered, voice muffled as he pulled his shirt back on. He took a moment to sniff himself, then shrugged. “If your friends are going to show up at--” He looked at the clock-- “ten o’clock in the morning, they don’t deserve clean clothes.”

Stiles snorted, then pulled a T-shirt off a hanger at random. He pulled it on and grinned at Derek. “Sure, but I’m taking you down with me.”

“I have no idea if you mean in ridiculousness or in spiting your friends,” Derek said, stretching his arms over his head, which served the dual purpose of cracking his back and showing Stiles the flat stretch of his abdomen and the hair that led beneath his jeans.

“Both,” Stiles threw out, turning toward his door. “Ready?”

“Not ever,” Derek replied.

“Good enough,” Stiles said, opening the door and stepping out. “You guys suck,” he continued, addressing Jess and Jason, who were on the couched and had turned toward his door as it opened. 

“It’s not _that_ early,” Jess said, shrugging.

“First, yes, it is totally _that_ early, second, it’s definitely that early if we’re talking about beer, and third, I haven’t gotten laid in almost three months,” Stiles said, counting off on his fingers.

“Yeah, I don’t see how that third one--oh. Hey, Derek,” Jess said, grinning and waving. “You guys didn’t have to stop on our account. I mean, it might have been a good show.”

Stiles threw the thing closest to his hands -- a coaster, as it happened -- as Jess’ head and watched her duck it easily.

“We can leave,” Jason offered, shrugging.

“Doesn’t matter,” Derek said, turning toward the kitchen. “He’s not going to get some now, anyway.”

“Make me some eggs, too?” Stiles called over his shoulder, heading into his kitchen. He heard Derek grunt in response, which either meant, “Yes, Stiles, of course” or “make your cockblocking friends do it.” It was really a toss-up. 

“ _The Sentinel_ is definitely worth it,” Jess promised, tugging Stiles down onto the couch between herself and Jason.

Stiles stared at her. “It’s worth not having sex with my extremely hot boyfriend?”

“She’s lying to make you feel better,” Jason said, leaning back into the corner of the couch. “But it _is_ really good.”

“He’s right,” Derek called from the kitchen. “Laura made me watch it.”

“You know,” Jess said, “I kind of forget he can do that.”

“What, you mean hear you across the apartment?” Stiles asked. “That’s like Werewolf 101.”

“I kind of forget he’s a werewolf, too, if that helps,” Jess added, shrugging.

Stiles snorted. “Not really.” He grinned. “As long as you don’t forget he’s hot and mine, I’ll forgive you.”

“Stiles,” Derek called, his voice that weird teacher tone that meant he was either disappointed or amused but unwilling to admit it. Dating Derek was a work out for interpretive powers.

“Be back,” Stiles said, levering himself out from between Jess and Jason and wandering into the kitchen. “Yes?” he asked, watching Derek plate the eggs.

Only one plate. Could mean anything. 

“You rang?” he continued, moving closer so he could run his hands up Derek’s arms and squeeze his biceps. Before he could step back, Derek turned and gripped Stiles’ waist, picking him up and turning around to drop him on the counter next to the cooling eggs.

He was smirking. Derek had that little grin on his face that Stiles couldn’t disassociate from sex and inappropriate touching at inappropriate times. He spread Stiles’ knees apart and pressed into his space before he said, “You’re hot and mine, too.” Stiles had time to get his arms around Derek’s neck and one leg hooked around his waist before Derek was kissing him up against his glassware cabinet. 

When Derek pulled back far enough for Stiles to catch his breath, Stiles asked, “Was that supposed to be a show?”

Derek leaned in until his face was tucked into Stiles’ neck. He softly bit the skin there before he replied, “Absolutely.”

“Oh, good,” Stiles replied, tilting his head to give Derek better access to his neck, “because Jess is filming us.”

“Of course she is,” Derek said, licking the joint of Stiles’ neck and shoulder before pressing a hard kiss there. “Maybe if she gets her eyeful she’ll leave.”

Stiles choked back a laugh. “I’m sorry, but have you met her? She’s more likely to follow us to the bedroom. I don’t think your poor political career could handle a sex tape.”

He could feel Derek roll his eyes. “My poor political career is fine. They’re stuck with me unless I die or step down.” He slowly moved his hands from Stiles’ waist to his ass, pulling Stiles forward and against him. 

“Thank god the Senate isn’t run like that,” Stiles muttered, exposing more of his neck when he leaned back far enough to let his head drop back against the cabinet. 

Derek took advantage, pressing wet kisses up the front of Stiles’ throat until he got to his mouth, licking in without resistance.

“Oh, for the love of fuck,” Stiles heard Jason say, though he sounded muted, like he was speaking through water. “Jess, put that down, Christ. We’ll be back after lunch. One o’clock. Please be done fucking by then.”

Derek broke the kiss long enough to say, “No promises.”

Stiles snorted, ignoring his friends leaving the apartment. “I’m holding you to that,” he said.

“Whatever you want,” Derek muttered, sliding his hands under Stiles’ thighs to lift him off the counter and walk them back toward Stiles’ bedroom.

“Someday,” Stiles breathed, “you’re going to regret saying that so often.”

“Haven’t yet,” Derek said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Keep reading for the sex. Stop reading if you don't want the sex. :)


	2. Coitus ... Not Interruptus?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And the sex! For those who wanted it.

Derek took a moment to tug his shirt and jeans off before he shoved Stiles further up the bed and dropped down on top of him. He repeated the motion with Stiles’ shirt, then pulled open the front of Stiles’ jeans, demanding, “Lift your hips, Stiles” so Stiles’ pants could join his on the floor. 

“I thought I wasn’t getting any,” Stiles panted, dragging Derek between his legs and down for a kiss. 

“Lies,” Derek answered, breaking the kiss long enough to roll them over. Stiles landed on his hands and knees before he dropped to his forearms, biting the side of Derek’s neck and then kissing the spot. Derek dragged his hands down Stiles’ sides and into his boxers. “Off,” he demanded, tugging Stiles’ boxers off his ass and down his thighs.

Stiles brought himself back up to his hands and knees before using one hand to remove his boxers fully, then moved that hand to his own dick, stroking softly. 

“No,” Derek said, grabbing the base of Stiles’ erection and squeezing. Stiles dropped back to his forearms automatically, groaning into the side of Derek’s neck.

“Jesus, Derek,” Stiles moaned, rocking against Derek’s hand.

Derek let go and moved to remove his own briefs, arching up to pull them down his hips and kicking them off onto the floor. “Come here,” Derek said, sliding his arms up Stiles’ and pulling him down so they were pressed together, chest to feet. Stiles groaned and Derek ran a hand through Stiles’ hair before he pulled him forward and into a soft kiss. 

Stiles wound his arms under Derek’s until he was holding his shoulders and pulled back long enough to whisper, “I love you” before he restarted the kiss, open-mouthed and wet until Derek relented and and pressed his tongue into Stiles’ mouth.

Derek got his hands on either side of Stiles’ face, pushing him far enough back to ask, “What do you want?” He ran one hand through Stiles’ hair while the other held him in place with long fingers against his jaw.

“You,” Stiles answered, like he always did. Then, “I want you to come inside me and I want to be able to feel it tomorrow.” He panted, watching Derek’s eye dilate that last little bit. Derek’s hands moved to run down his sides, clenching when he reached the crease between Stiles ass and his thighs and pulling Stiles forward to grind them together. “Oh, Jesus fuck,” Stiles exhaled, dropping his head to Derek’s collarbone. “Get on top of me, Derek.”

Stiles was on his back before he even finished the sentence, wrapping his legs around Derek’s waist and grinding their hips together. Derek ground down once in return before he let up, reaching toward the drawer in Stiles’ bedside table. He dropped the lube down on the bed next to them, kissing Stiles roughly on the mouth before he said, “You know I love you too, right?” and looking Stiles in the eye. Stiles had to choke down a laugh.

“God yes,” he answered. “I don’t think I’ve ever really questioned that; it’s like a constant of the universe. If it can happen, it will, unicorns are not and have never been cuddly, Derek loves me like breathing.” Stiles squeezed Derek’s hips with his knees. “You don’t question, do you?” he asked, running his knuckles down Derek’s face in a stupidly romantic gesture he’d probably deny later.

Derek shook his head. “No,” he whispered, smiling. “I really don’t.”

“Good,” Stiles said, unable to resist smiling back. He kissed the corner of Derek’s mouth. “Let’s get back to the thing that ends with your dick inside me then, okay?”

Laughing, Derek leaned down to kiss him properly. The kiss escalated into tongues, and wet, and Stiles could feel Derek’s hand, slick and sure, running over the little strip of skin behind his balls. He groaned and spread his legs wider, in invitation, and Derek took it. 

Derek’s middle finger pressed in past muscle and Stiles had to break the kiss to catch his breath. He panted for a few seconds while Derek kissed his neck, moving his finger in and out slowly. “Okay,” Stiles breathed. “Fuck, just, okay, Derek.”

A second finger joined the first as Derek licked a stripe up the side of Stiles’ throat. Derek’s other hand was under one of Stiles’ thighs, pushing it further out and up against Stiles’ chest. Stiles stretched the other out to the side and pushed down on Derek’s hand as the fingers continued their in and out movement, spreading apart whenever they bottomed out. 

Derek kissed Stiles again, licking into his mouth as he added a third finger, stretching all three apart as far as they would go. Stiles ground down on Derek’s hand and Derek shifted his fingers, all three rubbing against Stiles’ prostate when he moved again. 

While Stiles was still panting against Derek’s throat, Derek removed his fingers before leaning back. Stiles watched as Derek used his hand to spread lube across his erection. He sat back, staring at Stiles, smoothing his hand up and down for a few moments before he asked, “Good?”

Stiles couldn’t help the laugh, even though he’d anticipated the crease between Derek’s eyebrows. “Yes,” he answered. “God, yes.” He squeezed Derek’s hips again with his knees. “Derek, if you aren’t inside me in the next ten seconds, I swear to god--” Derek pressed Stiles’ legs back and apart with both hands as his erection slid smoothly into Stiles, not ceasing the motion until he was pressed as closely as possible, his balls brushing against Stiles’ ass. 

Groaning, Derek asked, “You swear to god, what?” as he sat there, still, letting Stiles adjust.

“Derek, Jesus,” Stiles breathed. “The same thing I’ll do if you don’t _move_ , fuck.”

Derek slid back until just the head of his cock was inside before sliding in again, then repeated the motion, still moving slowly, sitting back on his heels and watching Stiles. He moved a hand from one of Stiles’ thighs to where Stiles’ dick was leaking fluid onto his stomach. He slid his hand up and down once before Stiles let out a low moan. Rocking his hips against Stiles’ ass on instinct, Derek let go of a soft sound in the back of his throat.

Before Derek could move his hand again, Stiles said, chasing his breath, “Don’t.” Derek looked him in the eye, his eyebrows pulling together, as Stiles added, “I don’t need it. Just move, Derek. Move and kiss me.”

It wasn’t a second before Stiles’ knees were against his chest and Derek was kissing him, open-mouthed, as he rocked his hips. 

Stiles ground back against him and opened his mouth, letting the kiss grow sloppy as Derek pulled out and pushed back in, more quickly. He pushed Stiles’ knees further apart as he pulled out again, and when he pushed in, Stiles felt his breathing stop for a moment. “There,” he said, pushing the word out on a breath. “Derek.”

Derek kept the angle as he moved more quickly, kissing and biting a mark onto Stiles’ collarbone. Stiles let his head fall back against the mattress and just breathed, small pants and grunts as Derek’s cock hit his prostate over and over. He felt his orgasm building as his balls tightened and heat bled into the base of his spine.

“Derek,” he breathed. Stiles ran his nails across Derek’s back, pressing his heels against Derek’s thighs. “Derek.”

“Yes,” Derek whispered, his movements shortening and becoming faster. 

The orgasm bled out of him as Derek’s voice broke on his name and Derek released Stiles’ legs to brace himself on his hands. Stiles ran his hands up Derek’s arms and cradled his shoulders as they both shook through the last of it. 

Derek dropped onto his forearms as he pulled out, breathing shakily into Stiles’ neck before turning his head to press kisses against his skin. Stiles ran his hands through Derek’s hair, across his back, and up and down his arms as he slowly let his legs unfold, ignoring protesting muscle in favor of pressing himself against Derek as much as he could. Derek resisted dropping his weight, but they both knew who was more stubborn, and in moments Stiles had him breathing heavily in his arms and wrapping his hands around Stiles’ hips. 

“Fuck, that was great,” Stiles breathed, pressing a kiss into the side of Derek’s head, wherever he could reach easily. Stiles enjoyed the feeling of Derek’s come leaking down his legs and probably drying on the sheets. It was weird, but it felt a very special sort of intimate. 

Groaning into Stiles’ shoulder, Derek managed, “Towel.” 

Stiles snorted. “Fine. You get a damp towel, I’ll strip the sheets.”

He felt Derek nod against his neck. “Put new ones on, too, this time,” Derek grumbled before levering himself up and off of Stiles, making and keeping eye contact until he had to turn to walk into the bathroom. Stiles rolled himself off the bed, ignoring the wet spots, and expertly shoved the blankets to the floor so he could pull the fitted sheet. 

He dumped it into the laundry basket and pulled a clean one from the top of his closet when Derek walked back in, carrying a damp towel and a glass of water. As Stiles moved to fit the sheet around the corners of the bed, Derek moved behind him and reached around to move the towel across Stiles’ stomach, then between his legs. Stiles spread his legs a little more, unconsciously, as he moved to slip the next corner onto the mattress. Derek flipped the towel and kept his arm behind Stiles as he ran it over Stiles’ ass and down his thighs. 

When Stiles moved on to the third corner, Derek put the glass of water on the side table, then threw the towel in with the old sheet. As soon as Stiles finished the fourth corner and pulled the sheet straight, Derek pulled the blankets back onto the bed and fished the pillows out of their hiding places. He lay down in the middle of the bed and grabbed Stiles’ arm. Stiles let himself be pulled down onto the mattress with his back to Derek’s chest and reached out to grab the water. When he’d finished the glass, he put it back, then asked, “Fun?”

Derek snorted. “If you have to ask, you’re doing it wrong,” he answered, pulling Stiles tighter against him and burying his face in Stiles’ hair. He breathed deeply once, then asked, “What were you threatening me with?”

“Oh,” Stiles said, grinning. “That.” He turned enough to look Derek in the eyes as he grinned. Derek pressed a kiss to his shoulder. “I was going to say I’ll keep the video from you. Jess’ already sent it to me, guaranteed.”

Derek huffed a laugh. “So?”

“So, you know you want to see that,” Stiles answered. “What it looks like when you push me back against the cupboards and kiss me. When--”

“I get it,” Derek said, cutting him off. He gave Stiles a crooked grin. “You’re right. I want that.”

“Better than porn,” Stiles said, smiling.

“So is this,” Derek sad, pressing a soft kiss to Stiles’ lips.

“You know you’re the sappiest sap to ever make a maple jealous, right?” Stiles asked, kissing Derek back, just as chastely. 

Derek hummed against his mouth and turned Stiles to face him. 

“God, that’ll never stop being hot,” Stiles breathed, bringing an arm around Derek’s waist to pull them closer together. Derek raised an eyebrow. “You doing whatever the hell you want with me. I could never actually make you do anything, but you let me do everything. It’s hot. So’s you picking me up, flipping me over, whatever. I love it.”

“You’re weird,” Derek said, kissing his forehead. 

“Yeah,” Stiles agreed. “But you’re weirder for liking it.” Derek snorted, but didn’t move. Stiles checked the electric green clock over his shoulder. “We have about an hour before Jess and Jason are back.”

Derek made an indecipherable noise into Stiles’ neck and pulled Stiles closer against him.

“I can make them not come back if you want,” Stiles said, stroking a hand down Derek’s side.

“No,” Derek huffed. “They’re nice, and you like them.” Stiles laughed into Derek’s shoulder. “Just. Let’s stay like this for a bit.”

“I’ll set an alarm for us to shower in thirty minutes,” Stiles said.

Derek nodded his agreement and pressed a kiss against Stiles’ shoulder.

“I love you,” Stiles said, knocking his forehead against Derek’s.

Cracking open an eye, Derek stared at him for a moment. “I know,” he said, then smiled and kissed Stiles’ mouth again. “I love you, too.”

Stiles plugged the alarm into his cell, then dropped it onto the mattress somewhere over Derek’s shoulder. He let himself settle into the embrace, warm and safe. Then, “The entire quantity of my eggs are now a congealing mess on the counter, aren’t they?”

Derek huffed, then wrapped his arm tighter around Stiles’ waist.

Stiles sighed. “Toast it is.”

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed! I've never been very proficient at writing porn, so there's that. I hope I did all right?
> 
> There will be another Stuck on Repeat side story up on Sunday. After that, the posting schedule will probably be less regular, as I'll post as I write. For those of you who haven't claimed your prompts, feel free to do so!
> 
> As for everyone else (and the winners, I don't skimp!), feel free to follow me on [Tumblr](http://approximatelytrue.tumblr.com) or watch my open prompt posts on [DW](http://anoyo.dreamwidth.org) and [.](http://pyrrhical.livejournal.com)


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